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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29009241">I Walk My Days On A Wire</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracomalfoyy/pseuds/Dracomalfoyy'>Dracomalfoyy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>23 Ways To Say I Love You [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Clint Barton &amp; Natasha Romanov Friendship, Clint Barton Has Issues, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Clint Barton’s Shitty Childhood, Let’s talk about my varied medical knowledge, Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Phil Coulson, because I was going into medicine before I got depressed lmao, but ive retained the knowledge which I guess is helpful, queen of self diagnosing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:21:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,717</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29009241</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracomalfoyy/pseuds/Dracomalfoyy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt 10 - things you said that made me feel like shit </p>
<p>(all prompts stolen from eversncenewyork on tumblr) </p>
<p>Title from ‘Cherry Wine’ by Hozier</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clint Barton &amp; Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton &amp; Phil Coulson, Phil Coulson &amp; Natasha Romanov</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>23 Ways To Say I Love You [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1453279</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I Walk My Days On A Wire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I am seriously struggling to find a reason to keep you here, Agent Barton.” </p>
<p>Clint rocked back on his chair, choosing to time how long he could balance on the two back legs instead of listening to Fury yell at him. Yes, he was supposed to kill the infamous Black Widow as soon as he had an opening. But he’d seen her handler beat her and she’d taken it with a blank expression that Clint recognised. It was there and then that he decided he couldn’t and wouldn’t kill her. They really didn’t know anything about her other than her name. She deserved a chance to at least explain herself. </p>
<p>When he strolled back into headquarters with the Black Widow at his side, Coulson looked at him with resignation. He called some senior agents to take her to a secure room and all but dragged Clint off to his office to ask him why he had to make his job harder. Then Fury had stormed in and now he was in an actual interrogation room, balancing on the back legs of his chair. </p>
<p>“Clint… please just tell us what was going through your head when you chose to buddy up with one of the most dangerous assassins on our radar?” Coulson had removed his tie long ago, about an hour into this ‘informal interrogation’ when it became clear that Clint wasn’t going to answer their questions. Clint locked eyes with him, slowly resting his feet on the table without tipping the chair. </p>
<p>The door clicked as Maria opened it, slipping in with four coffee cups and four food boxes from the cafeteria. She handed the boxes and cups to Fury and Coulson, settling another down on the table for herself. She didn’t give the food or coffee to Clint. Instead, she sat down to eat, still holding his food hostage. It was just out of his reach, a tactic he recognised from one of the foster families he’d stayed with. Intended to make them feel like it was their fault that they weren’t eating. His blood ran cold as he realised what they were doing. SHIELD knew his past, which meant they knew how many times he’d been denied food as punishment in his life. They’d promised that it wouldn’t happen to him here. They also promised that he’d never be beaten as punishment, was that next?</p>
<p>Clint hadn’t even realised he’d moved until his back hit the wall. He sunk to the floor, sucking in desperate breaths and feeling slightly stupid. He knew that Phil wouldn’t let something like this happen to him, but he’d never been punished by SHIELD before. This was his first mistake in the year he’d been there, and it was admittedly one of the biggest mistakes a junior agent could make, defying direct orders from Fury. He slipped in and out of awareness, the body in front of him switching between Coulson and his father. Clint was vaguely aware that he was losing time. This used to happen to him when he was younger, before his parents died and he spent every day curling himself inside kitchen cupboards for a break. Time was slipping and then it was gone.</p>
<p>Coulson jumped back when Clint began to seize, freezing for just a second before glancing at his watch, counting the seconds along with the hand. Fury was behind him, requesting a medical team immediately. Maria tossed the navy blazer Phil had draped over the back of his chair a couple of hours ago to him, and he slipped it under Clint’s head. By the time the medical team arrived, precisely a minute and twenty seconds since they were called, Clint had stopped seizing. He now lay on his side, head still cushioned on Phil’s third favourite blazer. They moved him onto the stretcher, wheeling him towards medical with speed. Phil ran alongside, filling them in on what had happened. He couldn’t tell them much, because he still wasn’t sure exactly what had happened. </p>
<p>Phil sat on the lone chair outside the hospital room his agent was currently in, replaying the day to find an answer. Clint had been sent to Russia to take out the assassin on the top of SHIELD’s list, the Black Widow. Coulson had felt confident that Clint was capable, so he’d opted to let him go alone for a cleaner extraction. Three days later, after multiple missed checkpoints, Clint returned to the New York barracks with Black Widow very much alive. This didn’t surprise him in the slightest with Clint. Instead of yelling or killing the assassin immediately, he’d sent her to a holding room. Clint must have had a reason not to kill the girl, and Coulson thought he’d probably understand once he’d heard it. He’d pulled the agent into his office and asked him if he enjoyed making his job harder. Clint looked smug when he nodded, mostly because he knew how much paperwork Phil would now have to do. Before he could respond, Fury had stormed in and dragged them into an interrogation. </p>
<p>Unsurprisingly, Clint ignored Fury for the best part of the four hours. If Fury had consulted Coulson about his agent, he would have told him that this would happen and could’ve had a completed mission report on his desk in under four hours. He didn’t though, so Coulson kept quiet and played the part of a very irritated handler who just wanted answers from his agent. Honestly, he enjoyed watching Clint piss off his boss for hours. SHIELD wasn’t the most entertaining of places to work until Clint Barton had been recruited fresh off the streets and immediately began fucking shit up.</p>
<p>Phil slumped in his chair, waiting for any kind of information about his agent. None of the other handlers liked to bond with their agents. Phil understood why. This job was dangerous, and agents died every day. Grieving each and every death was an emotional strain nobody needed. But he had always felt that knowing his agents, truly knowing them, made them a better team than any other. Phil had yet to lose an agent, despite how often Clint had been revived in the short time he’d worked there. He would be damned if he lost one by his own hands. </p>
<p>It had been hours since they’d brought Clint in, the sun now creeping up. They’d admitted him shortly before 0000 hours, Clint returning from Russia at 1945 hours with the target in tow. At 0415 hours, sleep was trying to drag him down. He couldn’t though. Not until he’d confirmed with his own eyes that his agent was okay. </p>
<p>It was maybe an inappropriate, ill-timed gesture, but it was the only one Phil could make on such little sleep. He pushed quietly into the room, tray of food in his hand. It wasn’t the food from the cafeteria. Phil worried that anything like that could be triggering and he couldn’t make things worse. He’d picked up some of Clint’s favourite foods in hopes that he could win back a little trust. He wasn’t hopeful. Clint was awake when he walked in, rolling away from Phil to face the wall immediately. </p>
<p>“You promised.” He mumbled, his back still turned to Phil. He set the food tray down, shoving his now empty hands into his pockets. </p>
<p>“I know. I’m sorry, Clint.” He was almost out the door when he glanced back at the bed, watching the young agent sob quietly. He dropped his gaze to the floor, leaving the room feeling like the biggest asshole ever. </p>
<p>Coulson rubbed his eyes at 1000 hours, preparing for his 5th attempt at getting Clint to eat something. He was exhausted and pissed, both at himself for failing Clint, and at Maria for triggering this entire thing. It was clear in his file that food was never to be used as a bargaining chip. Maria had apologised, claiming she didn’t know that his reaction would be so severe. Phil couldn’t even listen to the rest of her excuse, leaving before he said something cruel. He scanned his card, unlocking the door to Clint’s room. The Black Widow was sat at the edge of his bed, staring at him with extreme concentration. She looked young, especially for her reputation, and it suddenly clicked why Clint didn’t follow orders. </p>
<p>“If you are going to kill him, today probably isn’t ideal. It’s been a bit taxing for him, and he’ll probably let you win to avoid talking about it.” She turned to face him, then pointed at the empty food tray on the table next to the bed. </p>
<p>“I got him to eat something. He didn’t really eat when we were coming here so I figured he must be in here because of that.” Coulson knew that her English was good, but her accent was flawless and surprisingly soft. He sighed, dragging himself over to the bedside chair. </p>
<p>“He had a seizure, actually.” She looked at him, confusion evident on her face. </p>
<p>“Why? He didn’t hit his head and I’m confident he isn’t epileptic.”</p>
<p>“It was a dissociative seizure. Another agent messed up. I messed up.” She nodded at him, taking the vague explanation he’d offered her. They sat in silence for the next hour. Coulson was confident she was weighing him up. He hadn’t marched her back to lock up or pointed a gun at her which had to have gained him points. She hadn’t made any move to hurt either of them or escape. It felt a tiny bit like trust. </p>
<p>“Are you planning on staying with SHIELD, Miss Romanova?” He asked finally. Coulson wouldn’t allow her to be eliminated now that they’d built this tiny thing. All he could do was offer her a new place, a chance to become someone new. Clint trusted her, which was all Phil needed really to give her a chance. Fury would just be glad it was tied up neatly. She didn’t move when she spoke, still focused entirely on Clint.</p>
<p>“I want to do something better with my skillset. If I can do that here, I suppose I could give it a try. But only you and him, at least for now.” She looked hopeful, and a little scared. Phil smiled, leaving her to watch over his agent.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>please can this pandemic be over I am so tired of cooking food </p>
<p>anyway hi and also hello I’m sorry that I dipped for months again lmao but I was productive during that time </p>
<p>as always talk to me on tumblr —&gt; clintbartonsbitch</p></blockquote></div></div>
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